


Stress Relief

by Isavuu



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romantic slow burn, Smut, Some depictions of violence, Swearing, porn with a plot, smut throughout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-17 11:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isavuu/pseuds/Isavuu
Summary: This life you lead is stressful. Being an Avenger is not easy, not for you or even for the seasoned veteran Bucky Barnes. He finds relief late at night in your arms and in your bed, and maybe you’ve started to depend on him as well. How long can you two keep this up without it evolving into something more?





	1. Chapter 1

The water went cold a while ago. It feels like ice against your limbs, like a cold sweat dripping down your face. You can taste it on your tongue when it’s not intertwined with his. Your quiet moans echo against the glass walls of the shower, barely audible compared to the downpour of freezing water and the man groaning with pleasure in your ear. 

He has you pinned up against the shower wall, one hand underneath your backside, supporting your weight and the other, metal limb, slammed against the glass, leaving cracks. The pace he’s going at is unbelievable, and you previously thought unattainable standing up. You have one arm reaching behind you, tightly gripping the top of the wall for leverage, with the man’s ridiculously large bicep clutched in the other hand. 

“F-Fuck, Bucky,” you whimper as teeth graze against your neck. Tightening your legs around his hips, you dig your heels into his ass to pull him closer. You can feel the vibrations of his groan against your neck while he sucks at your pulse point. 

Everything feels more intense under the freezing water, there’s goosebumps all over you. A prickling sensation lingers in your toes and fingertips, although that may be from your previous orgasms he gave you when the water was still warm. Bucky, however, feels hot to your touch. The friction of him pounding relentlessly into you is more than enough to warm you, inside and out. 

There’s a fire coiling in your abdomen for the third time tonight and you desperately want to chase that feeling. Your nails dig into his arm before your hand trails to grab his jaw and force him to part from your neck. The stubble pricks your numb fingers and a gasp hitches in your throat when you see that handsome face. His usually deep brown hair is blackened from the water and clinging to his skin. He looks at you through dewy, thick lashes. Those pouty lips are ruby red from the friction and the temperature. His lust-filled eyes search your flushed face before you speak. 

“Take me there,” is all you say before you press your lips against his, the heat of his face radiating onto yours. 

He knows exactly what you mean and complies by pressing your back harder against the shower. Big hands grab your thighs and part them further than they already were, until your muscles start to quiver under his palms. You must tightly wrap your arms around his neck for support, breasts pressed against his broad chest. He thrusts faster into you, and although your lips are against his, you’re not so much kissing as moaning messily into his mouth. 

The way his fingers tighten around your thighs indicates that his undoing is coming as quickly as yours. Like dominos, his release follows your final orgasm, the tightness and the third wave of wet doing him in. He pours into you with an animalistic grunt, and when he pulls out, you’re reminded of how cold the water has turned. As he puts you back on your feet, he reaches over and turns the knob of the shower all the way, but the freezing has only turned to a disappointing lukewarm. 

Although your legs are still shivering, from the cold and the exertion they were just put through, you part from Bucky and step out of the shower. The air in the bathroom is heavy with humidity, and there’s steam on every reflective surface. You retrieve a towel from a cabinet and wrap it around your body. Your partner remains in the shower, presumably to wash the rest of the dirt and grime off his body from the mission you just got back from hours ago. 

Exiting the bathroom, you collapse right onto your bed, uncaring that you’re soaking your pillows from the water held in your hair. The satisfaction of your after glow feels so much better stretched out among your hoard of blankets. You melt into your mattress and the wear on your muscles from the mission and your shower with Bucky becomes evident. It’s times like these you wish your body had some enhancement to ease your ache. 

The towel feels scratchy against your skin compared the silk of your sheets, so you wiggle out of it as you hear the water turn off. You drop the damp thing off the side of your bed and find the bottom half of Bucky’s tactical suit. He didn’t even go to his room to change before coming to visit you after the mission. You pick up his pants as he appears from the bathroom, steam following him out of the doorway. He has a towel wrapped low on his body and he tucks his wet hair behind his ear while his eyes scan your room. The beads of water rolling down his muscular torso glint in the low lighting of your room as he bends over to pick up his briefs, and you sit up to get a better view. 

Bucky lazily tosses the towel that was around his hips onto a nearby chair, and quickly pulls on his black briefs. You notice that his eyes were searching your room as he did so, probably for the rest of his clothes that were thrown around before you both went towards the bath. Lifting the pants up to his eye line, he closes the gap between where he stood and your bed, fingers wrapping around the fabric. He tries to pull them out of your hand, but you tighten you grip. 

“What?” he asks as his eyes examine your face for anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you okay?” 

He nods curtly, and you release the clothing. You’ve been doing this for almost a year now, and it’s always the same. Difficult mission, Bucky standing in your doorway in the middle of the night, falling into bed with him to relieve the stress, asking if he’s okay, and then he leaves until the next mission to take too much of a toll on both of you. Ever since you started this routine, he hasn’t had to take as many ‘pauses’ as Steve so gently calls them. The things HYDRA put in his head and made him do will never completely leave, and if his workload is too much he regresses into the broken soldier he was all those years ago. 

He and Steve keep these incidents private, but you like knowing that you’ve been helping them somehow. Bucky is aware of the role you play in his improvement, but he treats the situation differently, like you have an unrepayable hold over him. He shows it by hardly looking at or acknowledging you when in the presence of other people, just as he’s doing now while he pulls on his pants. Understandably, he doesn’t like anyone having any sort of power over him, but he could be participating in this stress relief with anyone he wants. You were the one he chose to visit that first, fateful night and you hope it’s because he knows you’d never do anything to hurt him. 

After putting on his tight, black undershirt, he scoops up the top half of his tactical suit and tucks it under his arm. Standing up straight, he looks back to you, his eyes glancing down to your naked form before murmuring a goodbye. You don’t say anything back, only offering a small smile as he turns on his heel and leaves your room. The emptiness swallows you in his absence and you lay back on your bed. You stare at your ceiling until the lights dim into darkness automatically. 

There’s still the ghost of his touch on your skin, and you wrap yourself up in your blankets to get rid of it. After every encounter with him, you’re left in a wake of thoughts dominated by the man who doesn’t even talk to you in public. Although your muscles and bones are screaming for rest, you know that sleep will be elusive tonight. When you finally succumb to your body’s needs, all of your dreams are invaded by the Winter Soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite fics I have ever written, a big thank you to [siruru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siruru/pseuds/siruru) for the header image!  
> Although I don’t write it in my sex scenes, I’m advocating for safe sex. Please use condoms and please go to the bathroom right afterwards!  
> Leaving comments, kudos, and bookmarks literally makes my entire day/week/year and I would very much appreciate them!  
> If you are a frequent commenter, I will start to recognize usernames and avatars and you may just win a fic request!


	2. Chapter 2

The past couple of months have been nothing but mission after mission. Planning, training, executing, eating, sleeping, and breathing missions. It has been wearing on everyone, and when Fury announced a well-deserved break, all of the Avengers were overjoyed. Many fled the compound; Thor returned to Asgard, Tony retreated to his new summer house in Italy, and Natasha literally sprinted out of the room as soon as the announcement was made. 

Wanda and Vision have been elusive, you’ve only passed them a couple of times in the common room and kitchen. Bruce has been held up in his lab, always on the brink of a breakthrough and not taking advantage of the free time to relax. The ones who have gotten the most out of this break have been Steve, Bucky, and Sam. The trio has been acting like teenagers, eating junk food, binge watching movies, and play fighting in the training center. It’s been nice to see these men let loose, and you’ve sat in on a couple of movie nights and participated in the runs around the compound. The two serum infused soldiers always leave Sam in the dust, and he gets less salty about it when you’re there to jog alongside him after he over exerts himself. 

On this night, all of the remaining Avengers in the compound are squished in the common room as the newest Star Wars movie plays on the massive flat screen. Sam was actually offended when Steve had said he hadn’t gotten the chance to watch the space series since being unfrozen, so there has been one Lucasfilm movie a night since the break. You arrive a little too late tonight with a blanket in your arms, as the movie already halfway done. Resting against the back of the couch, you try to gage which scene is currently on the screen. 

Always the gentleman, Steve jumps up from his prime spot on the couch when he notices you leaning behind him and says, “Here, take my seat.”

“No, Steve I’m fine standing.”

This vacation from the constant missions has clearly improved the mood of the usually serious Captain America as a mischievous smile appears on his lips. The lighting is so low that you barely have a chance to register it before his huge arms are around you, pulling you over the back of the couch. You squeal while you’re in midair until he gently sets you down on the cushions. Smacking his arm in displeasure, he only says, “You’re welcome,” before sitting on the ground with his back resting against the couch.

You roll your eyes and unfold the blanket you brought from your room. There’s an excess of the fabric and you turn your head to offer some cover and warmth to your team member next to you. There’s a hint of surprise when you see Bucky, sunken into the cushion and engrossed in the movie. His blue eyes snap out of their focus as you lift up the rest of your blanket and whisper a greeting to get his attention.

Bucky looks you over and glances at Steve’s silhouette on the ground, as if he just noticed his seatmate has changed. He sits up a little straighter and accepts your offer of the blanket over his lap. You smile softly at him before you turn your attention to the movie, not noticing his right hand slip under the blanket. Under the cover of darkness and the distraction of the others, his fingertips brush up against your thigh.

It takes all of your control to not whip your head to stare at him with your mouth gaping in surprise. Although you have seen the man next to you completely naked and in the rarest form of intimacy, the smallest touch in the presence of others has you in shock. Your eyes flit over to him to try and catch any emotion from his face. He’s giving you nothing, only staring intently at the television as he presses his fingertips onto the fabric of your leggings. 

You shift in your seat, leaning more on the arm rest than the back of the couch while you move your legs ever so slightly towards Bucky. He takes that as an invitation and rests his hand completely over your thigh. You scan the room quickly to see if anyone has you on their radar. Wanda and Vision are fit snugly on the recliner next to the couch, and you think the girl has long been asleep in his arms. Bruce sits in a chair he brought in from the kitchen, but is completely focused on his tablet, and you have a suspicion he will leave long before the movie is over. With his forearms resting on his legs, Sam is half-way off the other end of the couch, and more interested in his friend’s reaction to the movie. Steve is in the most concerning position sitting in between you and Bucky on the floor, his back separating your legs. If he were to turn his head, you’re sure he’d notice.

The rest of the movie plays without incident. Bruce left a half hour ago as expected and as soon as the credits roll, Vision carries the sleeping Wanda back to her room. Bucky’s hand leaves your thigh while Steve commands Friday to turn the lights back on, and the lack of warmth makes your chest constrict. 

“So, what did you think?” Sam asks expectantly, eyes darting between the two super soldiers.

“Well,” Bucky starts with a smirk, “I liked the part in space.” His comment earns a punch in the chest from Sam and you take the opportunity to quickly fold your blanket and stand.

“Really,” Sam says, asking once more, “what did you think?”

The look on Steve’s face indicates he’s about to disappoint his friend immensely, so you back out of the situation and climb the stairs to you room. On your way up, you can hear Sam yelling and Bucky laughing, and you’re glad you don’t have to sit through another explanation of the Star Wars plot that Steve just doesn’t seem to or want to get. 

Once you’re in your room, you throw the blanket onto your bed. The thought of why Bucky was touching you outside of these walls echoes in your head. To distract yourself, you settle at your desk and go over the reports on your tablet. As the lead weapons and vehicle expert of your team, you get the pleasure of reading through novels worth of reports from Stark’s technicians. In this lull between missions, many of the technology has gotten updates that you have to familiarize yourself with then explain and example it to your team.

Getting lost in your duties, taking notes on the newest upgrades to the fleet of motorcycles, you don’t notice how late into the night it has gotten. Just as you finish your last bullet point, your bedroom door creaks open. You lift your head at the sound, and confusion crosses your mind when you see his silhouette in your doorway.

“Bucky?”

He doesn’t answer, only stepping out of the shadow and letting your door shut behind him. He’s shirtless and shoeless, only wearing his favorite pair of dark grey sweatpants. His hair is tousled, like he was asleep, but something woke him up, and he has that ever familiar look in his eye. You stand and ask another question, “Are you okay?”

You are not going to get an answer from the man who has come for one thing. He closes the gap between you with a few steps, his hands going to your hips. There’s barely any space between your faces, and his eyes search yours for permission as his fingers brush under your shirt. You nod and there’s no hesitation in Bucky while he presses his lips purposefully against yours. Grabbing the hem of your shirt, he quickly pulls it over your head and discards it on the ground, his mouth immediately returning to yours after the second of separation. 

You’re pushed against your desk with the force that he’s kissing with, and you kick away your chair. Both you and Bucky get the same idea as you reach behind your back to brush the things off your desk and his hands slide down your legs to lift and sit you on the wooden top. Your tablet and notes clatter to the ground as your arms wrap around his neck. He sucks on your bottom lip while tugging on the waistband of your leggings. 

There’s a sense of urgency in his actions that gets you excited, like he can’t bare to spend one more second not buried inside of you. You entangle your fingers in his hair while he completely pulls off the rest off your bottoms and panties. Moans escape you as he presses the erection still contained by his sweatpants against your aching core. They grey fabric darkens from your juices and his precum as he creates some friction by grinding against you. 

You’ve never been ready this quickly by anyone but Bucky, the things he does to you makes your knees weak. All you want is his fullness and you attempt to pull down his sweats using the heels of your feet. He breaks away from your lips to kiss your throat, and he laughs when he feels what you’re trying to do. His hands leave your body to shove his pants and briefs down his thighs in one go as he did with the bottom half of your clothing. As he positions himself, the head of his cock threatening to pop into your entrance, he kisses up to your ear and whispers, “Do you want me as badly as I want you, doll?”

Without a word, you hook your ankles around his hips and pull on his hair to see his face. All you have to do is pull him closer with your legs for his member to slide partially into you. You love to watch his face when he first gets a taste of you. The way his mouth immediately gapes, and his eyes widen in pleasure makes it all the more satisfying for you. His hands slam down on either side of you and he leans forward, his hips pushing himself into you completely. Your legs tighten around him, and you can feel him pressing all the way against your cervix. 

Freeing his hair from your fingers, you gasp at how well he fills you, like he was meant for you. His head drops down to kiss your shoulder while he rocks his hips against yours. Although he’s unable to pull out as much as he wants to due to your tight leg lock, his movements are surging pleasure into all the right spots inside of you. You let out a high-pitched moan and he bites your shoulder in response. 

It’s not enough for him, and his hands move to your thighs, pulling your legs apart. With his newfound freedom he pulls almost all the way out of you, only to slam back in as the start of his punishing pace. The desk bangs against the wall with every thrust of his hips and the sounds of desire cascading from your lips only urge him on. He bites down harder on your shoulder and you respond to pain with more pain. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades and the back of his neck.

Bucky is quickly losing his resolve and the necessity of it all comes crashing down on you. Slipping his nonmetal hand between you, he rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves in between your parted legs. He doesn’t want to come down alone, and his knowledge of your body and what you like becomes clear. Ardently rolling his thumb over and over your clit, he brings you as close as he is. His usually rhythmic actions become wild and he buries his face into the crook of your neck as the clenches of your orgasm around his cock tip him over the edge. 

He is panting against your throat while his hands slip off your legs to rest once more on the top of the desk. With a heavy breath, you rest your hand on his cheek, tipping his face so those blue eyes lock with yours. His hand envelopes your wrist and he kisses your fingertips before pulling your arm down. His hips part from yours as he slides out of you and tugs his sweatpants back on. Your moment is over as quickly as it began, and you hop off your desk to clean yourself up in the bathroom. 

To your surprise, he’s sitting on the edge of your bed when you come out of the en suite, freshened up and now wearing only a loose t-shirt and panties. Something is off, the routine has been disturbed too much. There’s been no stressful mission, he touched you in the presence of the other Avengers, and he hasn’t left even though your late-night visit is over. You walk over to him and as you stand in front of the man, you ask a different question than usual, “What is this about?” 

You only receive a shrug as an answer and you cross your arms, trying to think what could send him to your room when nothing else has been going on. Scanning over him with your eyes, you notice how tired he looks, and you remember that he had bedhead when he first came into your room. It clicks in your mind and you relax your aggressive stance, dropping your arms and sitting next to him on your bed.

“Night terrors?”

He pauses before replying, “I don’t know why. It’s been great not having any missions. I thought I was doing okay.”

There’s defeat in his voice and you feel a pang of sympathy in your chest. You’re not quite sure how to proceed, as his nightmares are usually handled by Steve and the team of doctors. Your voice lowers to ask, “Why did you come to me?”

“I-,“ Bucky cuts himself off before finishing the sentence, but you know him well enough to figure it out. _I needed you._

He stands abrasively, his fists clenched, and you know he wants to leave before too many feelings come up. This is working between you two and anything different would make it all fall apart. His head is tilted down so his hair will fall and mask his face, and he glances at you once more with a pained expression before he’s out the door. Sitting on your bed suddenly alone, you rub your temples and sigh. This already sleepless night is almost at an end and you have so much work to do during this break, but the only thing you can think of is Bucky’s hand on your thigh and the pain on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What’s a star war?” – Steve probably  
> I love Star Wars and I think it’d be so fucking funny if Steve and Bucky just didn’t get it.  
> Hope you enjoyed the smut, thank you so much for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks!  
> If you leave comments frequently on my fics you may win a fic request like belissimabitch won last chapter! ;p


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Lots of depictions of violence, blood, and injuries.

The break didn’t last as long as the team needed. A huge HYDRA operation flared up right under the nose of the Avengers and drove them back to the grueling schedule of constant missions. In the heart of New York, HYDRA agents planned an attack on the subway system. Natasha managed to extract the intel on the exact station that would be targeted, and HYDRA was met with the full force of the Avengers. 

You keep replaying the events of the mission as you lay on your bed with an aching body and soul. There are more bruises and abrasions on your skin to count, and you have a split lip, white butterfly bandages holding together a nasty gash on your cheekbone, and a cast around your wrist. Staring at your ceiling, you start over from the beginning, where the first mistake was made only a few days ago.

Natasha didn’t completely trust the information she and some other covert operatives had gathered. She felt like something wasn’t right, but Steve ignored her concerns, saying that he’d plan accordingly, desperate to redeem himself for enjoying a break while HYDRA was stewing so close to home. Everything pointed to the subways, and no one had any other cause to believe differently except Natasha’s gut feeling. 

Early the next morning, before the sun had even risen completely, the team had been in place, encircled around the station and on the lookout for the HYDRA agents the intel identified. Some of them on the list had evaded capture for years, and everyone was dying to see them caught or killed. After hours had passed with no sign of them, and the New York streets and underground travel were getting increasingly busier, the team started getting antsy. 

That’s when the first bomb went off. It wasn’t inside of the station, but in the building right next to it, where Wanda and Vision were. Thankfully, Wanda’s powers protected them and the nearby civilians, but that distraction was enough to throw off the rest of the team. Sam and Tony left their high perches and the mix of the gunfire towards them and the crumbling, ruined building caused a mass hysteria on the streets.

There was so much screaming and so much smoke after more bombs were detonated that it was hard to see anything through the sights of your gun. It was almost impossible to tell where the shooting was coming from and you could feel the weight of everything going wrong in the pit of your stomach. You left your position when you saw Steve and Bucky run into the smoke. It was your assignment on this mission to cover them, but you couldn’t do it from where you were as the burning altered your vision and felt like fire in your lungs. 

You managed to drop a few of the enemies before you felt a sharp stabbing pain in your side. The bullet proof vest around your chest had done its job, but it was still extremely painful to get shot in the ribs. You fell to your knees as more bullets dug into your vest, and you saw three HYDRA agents coming right towards you, guns now aimed at your head. There would have not been enough time to shoot at all three of them before one of their bullets would have ripped through your skull. 

To their surprise, you aimed your gun up at the overhead archway of the building threatening to collapse. It didn’t take much for it to come crashing down on you and the agents. You had gripped your hands over the back of your neck while debris rained down over you. A falling brick broke the bones in your wrist, but better your arm than your spine. The agents got the brunt of the stone, and when you lifted your head, only one remained moving, but she was still coming for you. 

She emerged from the rubble bloody and bruised and lunged for you. Her gun had been lost, so she used her knuckles to slam against your face, opening the skin of your bottom lip. She raised her fist again and you closed your eyes for the next impact. It never came and a huge metal arm sent her flying. When you opened your eyes and saw Bucky’s panicked expression you wanted to cry in relief. He leaned down to help you off the ground, his arms open for you to come to him like you had done so many times before.

As you reached out for him, there was a sickening sound and pressure against your stomach. His beautiful face contorted into pain and he looked down at his chest. A thick, metal pole stuck out from just under his ribcage and pressed against your vest, blood spiraling down it to soak you. As he fell to his knees, you see a HYDRA agent looming over his shoulder. Half of his face was covered in fresh burns and he had the gun of his fallen comrade aimed to the back of Bucky’s head. His eyes told you he had nothing else to lose. Faster than you’ve ever moved in your life, you retrieved your hand gun from your thigh holster and emptied your magazine into the man that impaled Bucky. Both your spent gun and the agent’s body drop as you turn your attention back to the Winter Soldier.

His hand wrapped around the pole that was going straight through him, like he wanted to make sure it was real. The look in his blue eyes scared you to your core as he gurgled your name, blood dripping down his chin. You felt his weight fall onto you while he lost consciousness and you started screaming for help. The tears that rolled down your cheeks mixed with blood and you can’t remember what happened afterwards.

You tilt your head to look at your alarm clock with the bottle of painkillers next to it. It’ll be hours until your next dose, but you can feel the ache of your broken bones pulsating under the cast. You go over the mission once more in your head and try to remember what you did after you blacked out to distract you from the pain. The image of Bucky, saying your name as blood spilled out of his mouth is seared into your brain and it makes your chest hurt along with your arm. 

You can’t take it anymore, you have gotten updates like the rest of the team on Bucky the past couple of days, but it’s not enough. As you get out of bed with a groan, you don’t even bother putting on shoes. It’s the middle of the night so you are able to sneak out of the housing building with ease. Making your way into the medical center, you can feel the excitement of seeing him building. The Avengers Compound is extremely secure, so the security of the buildings inside is lax. It’s easy to go through the charting system at the abandoned front desk to see which room Bucky is staying in. The soft patters of your bare feet echo in these empty halls as your eyes scan the room numbers while you pass them by. When you spot the right numbers, you silently slip into the room, and your breath catches in your throat when you see him.

In this moment you are so thankful for the super soldier serum that runs through his veins. Not only would he have died without it, but he has healed so incredibly fast. If a regular man were to survive that, they would barely be able to lift a finger at this point of the recovery. He’s laying in the infirmary bed with his metal under his head and his human arm, recently freed from the wires and IV tubes, across his midsection. His fingers tap against his ribs and his head is tilted away from you, looking out his window. 

The click of the door closing behind you makes the man turn his head to look at you while he says, “I saw you running across the compound.”

Your cheeks darken in embarrassment as you walk over to his bedside. His metal arm moves out from under his head as you get closer. “How are you?” you question, ignoring the fact that he saw you looking quite silly running around barefoot in the dark. 

“A lot better,” he offers, his blue eyes searching yours for the reason to your visit.

Pointing at his stomach you ask, “Can I see it?” 

“Sure, doll,” he chuckles as he pulls up his shirt, and you realize that him being in a t-shirt and sweatpants rather than a hospital gown relieves some of your tension. He takes the gauze dressing off his abdomen to reveal a pink line held together by sutures. He looks healthy, and the wound seems like it’s already healing, but you can’t stop picturing how he was only a couple of days ago. Impaled, blood all over, and the pain before the unconsciousness. It takes you back to the mission and you suddenly remember what happened afterwards. 

_”No no no! Bucky wake up!” you scream as you roll him off of you and onto his side, unable to put him on his back due to the metal protruding from his body. Your vision is blurred from the amount of tears pouring out of you and the smoke that is engulfing everything around you. His eyes flicker back open as you continue to cry, and he smiles when he recognizes that it’s you. All color has drained from his face and the contrast between his white skin and the crimson blood around his lips sends a jolt of fear through your body._

_His hand shakily goes to cup your cheek, but another round of bombs going off so scarily close to where you both lay makes his fingers only leave bloody smears across your skin. The combination of the deafening noises, Bucky’s blood all over you and pooling on the ground, and the agony you feel everywhere on your own body makes your mind shut down. You don’t know what to do besides wrap your arms around him. Cradling his head against your chest, you call for help, praying they find both of you in the ruin._

“Hey, darlin’ don’t cry,” Bucky’s voice brings you back to the moment and you can feel your cheeks stained with tears and how hard it is to breathe. You quickly brush your face with the back of your hand, but more tears spill out to the replace the ones wiped away. He has redone his gauze and pulled down his shirt and is starting to sit up, arms out to you like they were a couple of days ago before all the blood. 

You fall into his embrace, climbing into the tiny bed with him as his arms envelope you. With your head resting against the crook of his neck, your tears wet his skin and the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t say anything while you sob against him, only holding you gently against his body like he’s done so many times under different circumstances. 

Once you’ve tired yourself out, and your sniffling has subsided, his hand moves to your chin. He lifts your face so he can look at you, brow furrowing at your slow to heal injuries. His thumb gingerly touches near your split bottom lip before he looks closer at the gash across your cheekbone and a particularly nasty bruise on your temple. You feel raw in front of him, and now you understand why he was so hesitant to admit the power he gave you when he seeks you out in the dead of the night for help as you have done tonight. 

His tightly knit brows loosen when he meets your sad, weary eyes. He removes his hand from your face to wrap his arm around you again, pulling you back to him. With the less hurt side of your face resting against his chest, you feel relieved from the burdens and stress you’ve been carrying around for days. 

“I thought you were going to die in my arms,” you whisper against him, eyes closing to succumb to the slumber that has been unobtainable ever since the mission.

“That wouldn’t be such a bad way to go,” he says, and as he presses his cheek against your hair, you freefall into the sleep you so desperately need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing about bed-sharing, it’s so intimate, like taking naps together is the highest form of intimacy, let’s be real. Sorry if the violence was too much, I’ve just had this scenario in my head for months and I needed to get it out.  
> Thank you for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks! Remember, if you comment frequently on my fics and I start to recognize your username and avatar I may pick you to win a fic request! Two people have already won some free requests on this fic alone and I’m itching to bust out some more oneshots ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Months have passed since that night in the medical center. Your injuries have healed but the emotional toll still lingers. Bucky hasn’t visited your room in the middle of the night since then and you haven’t made any effort to talk about it with him. Sam notices that your mood has been somber since that mission and that you’ve been burying yourself in your work. While you were explaining some new upgrades to his drone, Redwing, he starts talking up a man who volunteers with him at the Veterans Affairs. After Sam keeps bringing this man up, you finally yield and agree to go on a blind date with him. 

As you walk into the common room, dressed in a sequin sheath dress that ends a little higher up on your thighs than you remember it did when you tried it on in the store, Natasha whistles at you. Laughing, you spin around for her and she motions for you to come closer. While she pushes a bobby pin back into place in your hair she says, “You look great, (Y/N), you’re going to knock him dead.”

“Thanks, you don’t think it’s a little too much? I mean, it’s a pretty fancy restaurant but this dress is a lot shorter than I thought,” concern laces your voice and Natasha pushes herself off the stool she was on.

“Wait for a second, I have the perfect thing,” as soon as she finishes her sentence she’s racing up the stairs to her room. Content with showing up fashionably late, you shift your weight between your heels giving you an extra five inches of height but also giving you blisters. 

“Holy shit,” Sam’s voice makes you spin around the expression on his face makes you think of every ‘brother who disapproves of his younger sister’s outfit’ sitcom trope. You laugh until you see Bucky lingering behind him, his darkened eyes scanning your body like he hasn’t seen you completely naked and underneath him dozens of times. “You cannot go out like that, he’ll have a heart attack,” Sam says once his mouth stops gaping.

“Good, that’s what I was going for,” you say coyly, unable to keep your eyes from going back to Bucky’s intense gaze.

“Oh my God, Buck say something to the woman, she’s going to catch pneumonia,” Sam pleads to the man next to him, and as Bucky opens his mouth to speak, Natasha returns to the room carrying a huge, faux fur coat. 

She is absolutely glowing in delight while she helps put it on over your shoulders, “She won’t get pneumonia in this. You look _so_ good!” You don’t need a mirror to know how drop dead gorgeous you look. The coat compliments your skin tone perfectly and ends at your knees. The reveal of the sparkly and shorter dress underneath it will take everyone in the restaurant’s breath away. 

Sam voices his displeasure and pulls Natasha away from you to argue with her. You were smiling with amusement until Bucky comes up to you, standing closer than the acceptable amount of space two unassuming colleagues. When you look into his ice blue eyes, your smile disappears, and a pang of sorrow hits you like a brick. His eyes flicker over to your arguing and distracted teammates before his fingers brush against yours. As soon as his skin makes contact with you it’s like you both forget where you are and what you’re doing. You lean towards each other until Sam yells in defeat and you both jerk your heads back. 

“Just go, (Y/N), I don’t want you to be late,” he says with a frown as Natasha smiles like the Cheshire cat next to him. 

Matching Nat’s smile, you joke, “Goodbye, I’ll see you all tomorrow morning, in the same outfit probably.” With a wink to the woman laughing at the fuming Falcon, you watch Bucky’s expression change to sadness in a split second. If you linger on him for too long, you might get second thoughts, so you wrap yourself in Natasha’s faux fur and leave.

\--

It’s technically morning when you finally return to your room, the straps of your heels hanging off your fingers and the massive coat resting on your arm as you push your bedroom door closed with your hip. After you toss the faux fur onto you desk and drop your shoes onto the ground, something moving in the darkness of the room catches your eye. Slowly, you slide your hand into a drawer of your desk and then all at once cock and aim your gun at the intruder sitting on your bed. 

“Fuck, Bucky you scared me,” you say once your eyes have adjusted to the darkness and you recognize his form. He seems completely uncaring that you have a gun pointed at him. You put the safety back on and replace the gun back into the drawer. Having him in your room is nothing new, and you’re focused on changing into more comfortable clothes. Turning your back to him, you start walking over to your closet, struggling to reach the zipper on the back of your dress. 

Standing and walking over to you, he rests one hand on your hip as he ever so slowly unzips your sequin dress. The silence and the gravity of his hands on your body while he takes off your clothes makes you wet between your legs. He’s taking his time, undoing the clasps of your bra and sliding the straps off your shoulders. Lips ghost the side of your neck and you tilt your head out of instinct. His hand moves up to cup your breast while he presses himself against your back. Metal fingers the waistband of your lace panties and he pushes them down easily, the fabric dropping to your feet. 

As you step out of the bundle of clothes, you turn to face him, and you are met with such a despondent expression that your feel a wave of guilt wash over you. You rest one hand on his chest as the other moves to the back of his neck. Pulling his head down for a kiss, you stand on your toes to meet his lips. His mouth moves hungrily against yours while his arms wrap tightly around you, and your feet are suddenly off the ground. Moving your legs around his hips, your back hits your mattress. 

Bucky’s whole body is pressing against yours and you can feel him everywhere. Once he parts from your mouth, panting in excitement, you grab the back of his shirt and pull it over his head. He kisses down the valley between your breasts and your hands go to his hair as you arch your back. Moaning while he kisses your breasts, his teeth threaten to break the soft skin. You pull on his hair as he leaves purple and red across your chest. 

Once he’s finished marking your chest, he moves down to your naval. You expect him to stop there, but he keeps going until his mouth is hovering above your dripping core. His eyes flick up to meet yours before he lowers, kissing down right on top of your clit. Groaning with desire, you throw your head back against your blankets.

Your hips lift to meet his face as he slowly dips his tongue in between your folds. Taking his time, he runs his tongue over and over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your breath quickens as heat rushes to where his mouth is. He brings his hand up your body to rest on your ribs, feeling every sharp inhale when he increases the pressure of his strokes. 

Tightening your thighs against his head as the feeling becomes too much, he moves lower to give your clit a break. You can feel both his lips and his tongue against your core and your legs relax while the soothing pleasure courses through your body. You don’t want to finish like this, the need to have him inside of you makes you part his face from your entrance by pulling on his hair. His lips glisten with your juices and he smiles knowingly as you say, “I want you.”

He sits up and wipes his face before taking off his pants and briefs. The moment you see how hard he is you ache for it. He leans back down on his forearms, so you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him once before resting you head back against your mattress. His eyes are locked with yours as he enters until he is completely engulfed within you. Your name is on his lips while he begins to move against you, and you close your eyes while you sigh in satisfaction. 

He descends onto you, his arms wrapping around your chest, covering you in his warmth, as he thrusts against your hips. There’s not much room for him to pull out far, but he keeps hitting that same glorious spot inside of you. Your orgasm spills over like a waterfall and your moans get louder with your release. Those plush lips press against your jaw as he keeps up his pace to ride out your orgasm. It feels like static all over your skin until Bucky pulls you back to reality.

As you open your eyes, his hand glides up your neck to hold your face. His thumb is against your bottom lip and the rest of his fingertips are in your hair. Everything feels so good in this moment, and his eyes on yours make it so much more intense. You smile as your labored exhales escape your lips, the way he’s making you feel is also making it hard to breathe. He is so handsome in the throes of passion with his lips parted and face relaxed. His strong features look softer when he’s lost in you. 

You're lost in him as well, lost in his eyes and your hazy thoughts as he finishes deep inside of you. Lifting your head to kiss him and keep him closer, you can feel the last pulses of his orgasm inside of you. Something about how you’re so entangled within each other and how gentle and tenderly he’s touching you makes you want him to stay. The disconnect you feel when he pulls out of you and unwraps his arms from around your chest feels like actual pain in your heart. 

He rolls over onto his back next to you, his heavy breathing returning to normal much quicker than yours. When he takes your hand in his, you tilt your head towards him. You want him to stay, but a question is burning in your throat. Trying to control your breathing as you speak, you ask, “Why did you come tonight?”

His large hand goes slack against yours, and his face twists back into the sadness he had when he undressed you. Breaking eye contact, he turns to stare blankly at your ceiling. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that this intimate contact was brought on by jealousy. That he wouldn’t have come if you didn’t have a date with somebody else. You pull your hand away from his as the silence tells you all you need to know. 

Sitting up, you pull your sheet over yourself to cover your body. There’s tears already building in the corners of your eyes as you state, “It’s different now.”

“I know,” he answers to your disbelief, there was a time where he would have never admitted to having any changed feelings towards you.

You look back at him, voice wavering while you say, “I don’t think it’s working anymore.”

You’ve never seen him look so hurt, and it makes your stomach turn and your throat tighten. He simply gets out of your bed and starts putting his clothes back on, hiding his face from your view. As you watch him, a tear rolls down the side of your face, dripping onto the sheet. This all feels so final, like once he leaves your room he’s not going to come back because too much has changed for this to last. 

“Bucky, wait,” his fingers already on the handle of your door before you speak again, bringing his attention and dejected eyes back on you. In your heart you know this is a bad idea and that it’ll only make things harder, but you can’t help yourself. You wipe the tears that escape your eyes as you simply say, “Stay.”

He looks at you for what seems like forever, as if he’s weighing the options in his head. There’s only so many more hours until the compound will start to wake, but you want to spend those with him. Sighing, his hand leaves the doorknob and he returns to your bed. You open your arms out for him, and once he pulls off his shirt he climbs back into bed with you. Settling with your arms around him, his human hand is resting across your shoulder blades. You are partially on top of him, with your head resting on his chest. 

Sleep isn’t a possibility for either of you. You close your eyes, but you just listen to his heartbeat while his hand strokes your back. Looking at him would be too painful. All you can do is be enveloped by his body heat and move with the rise and fall of his chest. It feels like he pulls you closer as the first morning light streams through your window. Outside your walls you hear the compound start to stir, but you can’t bring yourself to move a muscle. 

Bucky is the first one to move, his hand pressed against your back moves up to hold your neck. Opening your eyes, you tilt your head back into his palm, meeting his tired, sad gaze. He shifts your body with his metal hand, and the vibranium feels like ice against your exposed skin. Turning you onto your back as he rolls over onto his forearms, hovering above you, his eyes are searching your face. You reach up and tuck his hair behind his ear, so you can get a better look at him in the dawn. In this light you soak in his features, his strong brow, the line of his nose, his full lips, and the dip in his chin. He lowers his face to kiss you so softly you barely feel it. 

Then he parts from you completely, the lack of his hands and lips leave your body feeling barren. As he stands, he picks up his shirt and doesn’t bother putting it on. Your eyes follow him until he reaches your door, and you look up to your ceiling to contain the tears coming back to you once again. You can hear your door open and close, and you squeeze your eyes shut. Pressing your hands against your face you start to sob. The quiet cries fill your empty room now that he’s gone, and you can feel the burden of your responsibilities weighing on your chest. Although you have a job to get to, you take this much needed moment for yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH, the angst of it all. Anyways, one of my main goals of writing reading inserts is so every girl knows that they are so so beautiful. Trust me, you would absolutely be able to rock a sequin sheath dress with a fur coat.  
> Love you all, please leave comments, kudos, and bookmarks, if you’ve been leaving comments then you may just win a fic request!


	5. Chapter 5

The whole ballroom is bustling with life. There is a sea of people dressed extravagantly, networking, participating in the silent auctions, dancing, or just enjoying the music from the live band. This event center in the heart of New York has been filled for a charity event hosted by Stark Industries. It’s a pleasant change of pace from the life of endless missions, and everyone who resides in the compound seems to be enjoying themselves. Of course, many of the Avengers have made appearances tonight to boost the media and investor attention. 

You don’t usually enjoy the interest that being on the team brings and thankfully you never get too much of it. Since you’re not enhanced, nor do you have a cool superhero name, you’re not even considered to be part of the core group even though your ideas and efforts are stitched into every mission. You’re fine with it, and you weren’t even going to come tonight until Sam begged you to be his date so he wouldn’t lose his mind. 

Regretting your decision to attend, you watch Sam flirt with a pair of women you introduced him to while you swirl the contents of your wine glass, the deep red of the liquid matching your dress. You’re leaning against the bar and listening to the combination of classical music and the bartender mixing drinks. The gown you’re wearing feels heavy and you wonder if it was worth getting all dressed up to be Sam’s wingman then to be promptly ignored. You’re wearing a floor length, off the shoulder, velvet evening dress and although you looked like a million dollars, it was getting uncomfortable. Velvet doesn’t breathe too well and you’re thankful for the slit on the side to let some air get to your legs. 

Sighing out of boredom, you look up at the ornate paintings gracing the ceiling, caught up in the gold trim and the history behind it all. The band fades out of the song they were playing and after a round of applause they announce that they’re taking a short break. The dance floor clears out and across the huge room you eye Steve surrounded by a group of people, mostly women trying to get his attention. Even though Sam would kill to be in his position, you can tell the captain is getting flustered.

Setting your glass on the bar with a nice tip, you make your way across the empty part of the ballroom. As soon as you’re in the center you stop dead in your tracks when you see him. Bucky stands away from the crowds, a glass of what you presume to be whiskey in his hand, staring at you and only you. He’s never attended an event before and you find it hard to breathe under your fabric at how handsome he looks. His hair is slicked back, and his stubble has been completely shaven off, something you’ve never seen before. The blue of his eyes contrasts drastically with his pitch-black suit and tie. 

It takes a moment for you to remember where you are, and for the buzzing of your surroundings to turn back to conversations and laughter. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, forcing yourself to pull your gaze away from him as you continue to walk towards the group surrounding Captain America. You’ve been avoiding Bucky for weeks, and it’s been harder than any mission you have been sent on. Focusing on your task of rescuing Steve from the attention he doesn’t enjoy for very long, you’re still aware of those piercing blue eyes on your every move.

Shouldering your way through the people desperate for a moment with the famed Captain America, you finally reach him just as the band picks up again. To your luck, it’s the Frank Sinatra song, ‘Oh! Look at Me Now,’ the one that Natasha teases him about whenever he gets to choose the music for training. She always loudly sings the part _I never knew the technique of kissing_ while pointing at him, but he never takes it off his playlist, only blushing when his teammates laugh at her mocking. 

“It’s your song,” you say loudly to speak over everyone else while you take the man in the navy-blue suit’s arm, “dance with me!”

His cheeks grow pink when some of the women in the group voice their complaints, as he’s declined every offer to dance. However, he’s thankful for the break and lets you pull him to the dance floor that’s filling back up. There’s flashes of light in your peripheral vision and you realize that people are taking photographs of you and Steve. 

“Don’t mind them, they’ve been following me all night,” he says with a sincere smile as he rests his hand on your waist and begins to swing you to the music. 

You laugh a little while saying, “Being famous has its drawbacks then?”

“You have no idea,” he sighs and as you dance together, it’s clear he was getting tired of standing there being the center of attention. His movements with you are easy and fun, and he only blushes a little bit when you mouth the words Natasha always does to him. 

The song ends all too quickly, but his hands don’t leave you as he waits for the next one to start, having no intention of going back to that group any time soon. As the band transitions into a slower Sinatra song, ‘It Started All Over Again,’ you expect Steve to start leading the dance again, but a tap to his shoulder makes him let you go and turn to the side.

Bucky looks a little embarrassed, but he tucks a stray strand of hair back behind his ear as he looks to his friend and asks, “Can I steal her for a dance?”

“Sure, punk,” he says with a pat to Bucky’s back and a grin. As the captain backs away to give you space, he’s swarmed with a trio of women, all asking for a dance. Natasha comes to the rescue and takes a break from drinking with Bruce to replace you as Steve’s dance partner. 

As Bucky steps into your arms, he brings you closer to him for the slow dance than his friend did for the faster paced song. Both of his hands are on your hips and you rest yours on his broad shoulders while you start to sway to the music. Everything you’ve been wanting to say to him feels stuck in your throat, and all you can do is look into his deep blue eyes. His mouth stays shut as well, but you know that just being in his embrace again means something more than what it looks like to the onlookers around you. 

Feeling his fingers tightening around your hips, you look at him with pain in your eyes as you whisper, “Bucky, we can’t keep doing this.”

“I don’t want to keep doing this to you either, but I can’t stop myself,” his words bring tears to your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, so your makeup isn’t ruined. Your chest constricts when you think about this vicious circle you keep getting into, and how every time he leaves you alone feeling empty it kills you little by little. Opening your mouth, you’re about tell him how much this hurts you, but he continues talking before you get the chance to.

“Listen, doll, I didn’t come to your room for just sex, and I think you know that,” he says, and you close your mouth, considering that he may have needed you even more than he let slip through. “Steve has told me so many times how he’ll never have a normal life, how he’ll never be able to date or give a gal what she wants, let alone falling in love and giving her a future. I figured if Steve Rogers doesn’t think he can do it, then who the hell am I to think that I can?”

You’re both stopped completely in the middle of the dance floor. Couples sway around you as the music changes to something livelier, but you’re stuck in each other’s arms, staring at each other. Bucky’s waiting for you to say something, his eyes searching your face for some sort of reaction, and you’re letting everything process, your legs feeling weak underneath you. 

“What do you want from me?” you ask, the hope in your voice makes your abrupt question seem softer.

This is the most Bucky has spoken to you, most of the things you could pick up from his body language and the hidden messages in his eyes, but the things he has to say tonight need to be said clearly. “I want all of you, I’ve given you so much of me that no one else has, but I want all of you,” he repeats before he continues, “(Y/N), I’ve never just wanted you in the middle of the night, it was always more than stress relief, but I thought that’s all I could give you. I took what I could, and I tried to not let my feelings get in the way. But darlin’, I want to hold your hand during movies, I want you to get all dolled up for dates with me, and I don’t ever want to sleep without you again. I want to call you my girl without having to worry about your name being dragged in the dirt like they do with mine. It’s not worth the empty bed and living from mission to mission without you.”

Your hands have moved up to hold his clean-shaven face while he was speaking. There’s a fire in his eyes that you’ve never seen before and you wonder how long he’s been thinking about this. The band and all the people surrounding you aren’t even there anymore. It’s just you and him alone in the ballroom. You pull his face down to yours, kissing him gently as his arms wrap around your back to hold you closer than ever. He tilts his head and presses harder against your lips, his mouth moving slowly, and you wonder how you could ever live without this, without him. 

When you finally pull away, you whisper, “You’ve always had me, and you always will.”

Suddenly the flashing lights of the cameras finally register, and you blink your eyes with every flare from the paparazzi. Parting your gaze from the man in your arms, hands sliding back down to his shoulders, you realize that everyone around you has stopped dancing, even though the music continues to play. Natasha and Steve are staring at you both, mouths gaping in surprise. Wanda and Vision are also close by, and although the superhuman looks confused, Wanda has the biggest smile. Thor joyfully shouts from the bar and lifts his pint of beer up to you, Sam piggybacks his cheer and also lifts his drink, his other arm wrapped around a woman’s waist. 

It feels like all of the blood in your body has rushed to your cheeks as you realize what a huge crowd surrounds you and watched your meaningful talk and kiss with Bucky. There’s no doubt that it will be posted online and be all over the tabloids tomorrow. As you part from your embrace, Bucky’s hand slides down to hold yours tightly. You’re both buzzing with excitement and suddenly desperate to get out of this place.

“Come on,” he urges as he starts to painstakingly pull you through the ballroom thick with people. 

Before getting to the exit, Tony steps in front of you with Bruce in tow. The scientist starts to meekly say, “Congratula-“

Tony cuts him off to voice with a grin, “What a stunt, we’re going to pull so many investors thanks to you two.”

You just laugh and shake your head as Bucky pushes past him, ignoring both them and everyone else. After you burst through the grand doors and the chill of the New York evening wind surrounds you, Bucky pulls you into his arms and finds your lips again. You can feel him smiling against your mouth and his hands sliding down the back of your velvet dress. One of his hands disappears from your body to produce a set of keys from his suit pocket and you pull away out of curiosity. 

“Let’s get out of here, doll,” he says as he slips the keys into your hands, since you are after all the weapons and vehicle expert. 

Finding his motorcycle on the street, he puts the single helmet on you, lifting the visor to sneak one last kiss before helping you on. You sit on the excess fabric of your dress, and you’re thankful again for the slit in the skirt as you expose one of your legs, so you can be seated properly on the bike. He gets on behind you, his hand lingering on your uncovered thigh before wrapping securely around your waist. When you rev the engine, you can feel him chuckle against your back, making the smile already on your face widen.

Pulling into the street and gaining speed towards nowhere in particular, Bucky’s arms tighten around you and he presses kisses against your bare shoulders. You feel free, unburdened. Any stress you’ve ever had has been melted away and already forgotten. The thought of never having to hide your feelings for the man holding you feels so good. You don’t care about the media storm or the opinions of your coworkers that are soon to come. For the first time you have Bucky completely, and he has you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was literally supposed to be only smut and out came all these _feelings._ I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you so much for everyone who has commented, given kudos, and bookmarked this, it means so much to me.   
>  My next fic will be a period piece called “Royals” and will be an arranged marriage, royal!AU. As always, I’ll be updating weekly and will be implementing my frequent commenter fic request system.  
> Love you all <3


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